


The Case of the Impossible Interlopers

by Grandeur_Raconteur



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: Gen, M/M, Maggie Kelly Needs an Alibi AU, Synchroshipping - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 13:18:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15730194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grandeur_Raconteur/pseuds/Grandeur_Raconteur
Summary: Yusei Fudo has made a successful life for himself out of nothing. Living alone in a garage he bought, he spends most days as a freelance mechanic. In private, however, he has secret. He is the author of a popular court room drama series staring Atem Sennen, Criminal Defense Attorney extraordinaire, and his partner in crime (solving), Yugi Muto. His characters, incredibly detailed and believable, have driven the series to great acclaim. But now Yusei’s contentment is disrupted when his creativity turns out to be a little too good. Atem and Yugi have gained sentience and decided to pop into Yusei’s reality. It seems they have good timing, though, because suddenly, Yusei is on the spot for his ex-boyfriend’s murder…





	The Case of the Impossible Interlopers

**Author's Note:**

> A little late in the day, but here is my submission for the YGO Big Bang 2018! Thank you newroyaloceans on Tumblr for this beautiful cover art! 
> 
> This story is admittedly rushed, but overall I'm pleased with how it came out and the possibilities of this universe. I might revisit this at some other time.
> 
> Huge thanks merelypassingtime for betaing. She's seriously the best.
> 
> I don't own either YGO or the Maggie Kelly books, on which this idea was based.

 

The distorted thump of metal music was loud enough that people passing by the  dingy, two story garage could feel it reverberating in their chest. Not something the more gentrified folk that populated that quarter of old town particularly appreciated, but the structure stood far enough away from the other shops, and no houses resided near, so no one troubled the lone inhabitant for his choice in music and its eardrum shattering volume. Cars and motorcycles in various degrees of completion sat on the lot, gathering dust and pollen as the single mechanic for the business took the day off. Unbeknownst to anyone other than a select few, the deserted lot and the loud music signified that the mechanic, Yusei Fudo, was inside his apartment working on his second, secret craft.

A handmade v-shaped desk boxed Yusei into a corner that was entirely devorite to this occupation. Scraps of paper, ranging from notebook pages to a receipt for Crimson Dragon Chinese food (beef broccoli-$9.95, take out, extra $3 charge for delivery), littered the desk in organized chaos, all of them covered in the untidy, difficult to decipher scribbles of a busy mind. On either side of the desk stood bookcases filled with a strange assortment (at least to the outside viewer) of automotive books, and guides to American law. These also included a splattering of research books on such _inaquous_ subjects as poisons, firearms, medical guides which defined the effects of grievous wounds of varying kinds on a body, police tactics, and a former detective's guidebook which went into such details as what a decaying body smells like and how to handle such corpses without gagging. That last had been particularly useful in _The Case of the Capricious Caretaker_ , in which Atem and Yugi stumbled on a body that had been there for several days, and it allowed for Yusei to write his hero realistically handling the situation without whinging as his companion did.      

Yusei chewed thoughtfully on the cinnamon stick in his mouth, the flavor long deluded as he sucked on it in an effort to curb his craving for a cigarette. During _The Case of the Laughing Linguist_ , Yusei had Atem attempt to quit smoking by sucking on cinnamon sticks instead of his customary Kools, with (eventual) great effect. Definitely true only in fiction, because six weeks in and he was still itching for the pack he knew was stashed in the cupboard above the fridge.

He wasn’t lazy by any means, but the fridge was slightly too tall and the floor slanted _just so_ , meaning the cupboard doors caught on the top of the fridge part way. He wasn’t going to deal with balancing precariously on his rickety step stool, trying to reach around the partially open door from the side of the fridge just to search blindly for a dusty pack of cigarettes. He wasn’t that desperate yet, thank you _very_ much.

Squinting at the screen, drumming his fingers lightly on the keyboard, and tapping his foot to the tune of AC/DC’s “T.N.T,” Yusei took a momentary pause from writing, and then smirked as the words began to flow. _'Cause I'm T.N.T. I'm dynamite…_

   

_Outside the courtroom, thunder sounded-quite apropo for the scene- as Atem approached Doctor Brennan on the witness stand._

_“No need to fear, Doctor Brennan,” Atem said with a congenial smirk. “I have no intention of grilling you. I just have a couple of questions I’d like to ask you, to clear up a few things.”_

_It was slight, but the doctor’s shoulders relaxed enough for Atem to catch it, but only because he was looking for such a reaction. Not enough to convict the man, certainly, but enough to convince him that there was more the doctor was holding back on, and Atem was fairly certain he knew exactly what that was…_

_“Of course,” Doctor Brennan said. “Ask away.”_

_Atem nodded, and reached into his pocket to rub his lucky doubloon as if it were a (ridiculously expensive) worry stone. Much like that discovery while on vacation in Nassau, his next moves had to be well planned and subtle. “Now, it was your testimony that you arrived at approximately 8:30 am at the defendant's house on May 17th, is that correct?”_

_“Around then, yes.”_

_“And it was at this time that you went to the victim’s bedroom, intending to administer treatment as you had done regularly for many months, at which point you found Mr. Lane’s body?”_

_“That is correct.”_

_“You also said, as I recall, that it was not immediately clear that Mr. Lane had died, as he appeared to be asleep until you attempted to rouse him, at which point you noted the signs of death, is that correct?”_

_“Yes...but I confess that I do not see how that is relevant, Mr. Sennan.”_

_“It is relevant to my client’s testimony, in which she stated that she entered the room around 7am, picked up the chair pillow from the floor, the same pillow used to suffocate Mr. Lane, placed it back on his chair, and dropped off his morning pills before departing.” Atem turned from the witness stand and began to pace slowly across the courtroom tile, the hard sole of his Gucci dress shoes clicking like the ticking of a watch, slowly approaching time’s up. “You mentioned previously that when you arrived, all that you saw in the room aside from the furniture and the body was a glass of water on the nightstand. ”_

_“I...yes, I believe that is correct.”_

_Having reached the jury stand, Atem rested his hand on the banister. With his back to the witness stand, he spoke in bored tone. “Just the glass?”_

_“Yes, just the glass.”_

_“And the glass...tell me, how much water did it contain?”_

_Doctor Brennan’s eyebrows furrowed a bit in thought, and perhaps with a hint of consternation at the seemingly innocuous questioning. “Well, it was nearly empty, I believe…Yes, that’s right.”_

_Few besides Yugi at the defense table might have noticed the way Atem’s posture preemed at the answer, even as he scratched at an imaginary mark on the banister lazily. Yugi did see, however, and smiled, looking back and forth between Atem at the jurors stand and Mai, sitting beside Yugi, looking as stoic as she had through the trial but watching Atem with the barest hint of hope._

_“You are certain it was nearly empty, then?” Atem asked in the same, bored tone._

_“Yes, I’m positive. I remember bumping into the nightstand, in my shock, you see, at discovering Mr. Lane was dead, and the glass teetered but did not spill.”_

_The handsome attorney had to fight back one of his charismatic grins. “Are you quite certain it was then that you bumped into the nightstand, rather than when you and Mr. Lane struggled as you murdered him in his bed?”_

_Deathly silence filled the courtroom for a brief moment, save for a couple of soft gasps. Seeming to regain his senses, Kaiba stood from the prosecutor’s table. “Objection! ”_

_Atem spun deftly on his heel, and began to pace towards the witness stand with feline like grace, appearing like the cat about to get the canary. Doctor Brennan stared at him, pale as death, with what Atem was willing to bet was cold sweat rolling down his face in sheets. “No, no of course not! I-”_

_“If the glass was mostly empty when you entered the room at 8:30 that morning, are we to believe that the pills and fresh glass of water Ms. Valentine brought up to Mr. Lane were somehow drunk by a dead man?”_

_“Objection!”_

_“Sustained.”_

_“Or is it because you remember the glass from when you sneaked into the room, using the spare key you took from within the stone in the front garden you yourself said you were aware of, and killed Mr. Lane in his bed-”_

_“Mr. Sennen!” Judge Cromwell cried, baning his gavel. “If you continue I will be forced to hold you in contempt of court!”_

_“-and the glass you recall is in fact the one that you nearly knocked over during the murder, and not the one that Ms. Valentine left for Mr. Lane to drink from to take his pills!”_

_The judge’s gavel had reached a fever pitch, matching, in fact, the pace of Atem’s heart as he stared into the eyes of Doctor Brennan, reading clearly the guilt that filled them._

_“These are substantial accusations, Mr. Sennen,” Judge Cromwell spoke wearily, with an edge to his crackling old voice. “Have you any way to prove that any of this is true?”_

_Without a word, Yugi pulled out a photograph from an evidence file on the defense desk and held it as Atem reached for it, the exchange swift and easy as if previously planned, a show of their deep and long established bond. Approaching the witness box, Atem held the photograph out for Doctor Brennan to take._

_“Would you be so good, doctor, as to tell me what this is a photograph of?”_

_Shaking, Doctor Brennan lifted the photograph to his face, eyeing it with some trepidation. “It is a picture of Mr. Lane’s bedroom.”_

_“Before or after his body was discovered?”_

_“After.”_

_“And you would be so kind as to describe what is on the nightstand?”_

_Doctor Brennan did not speak for a moment, but his paling face, looking as if it could become transparent at any moment, was a clear indicator._

_“Doctor Brennan?” Atem questioned smoothly._

 

Sharp pain digging into his leg pulled Yusei from his writing trance with a loud yelp, his arm jerking out and brushing a few of the scattered notes off his desk. Bright brown eyes stared up at him earnestly as the creature let out a muffled bark. Grunting, he reached down and pried the creature’s mouth from his leg with a wince, and then pulled the rather floppy puppy into his lap.

“What have I told you about claws, Ben?” Yusei asked the pup as he settled into his lap. He only tilted his head in reply.

Yusei had grown surprisingly attached to the canine in the few weeks since getting him.  A couple of lonely kids down the street, some twins named Leo and Luna, had found Ben as a stray in the neighborhood, seemingly abandoned by his German Shepherd mother. They’d seen him outside working on a car (a 2012 Maserati GranTurismo, fine car, shit owners that couldn’t drive a stick without fucking up the clutch), and approached him hoping he might be able to help. It had turned into something of a small adventure, as he had accompanied them to a nearby vet to check the dog for chips. Then he’d helped them make signs and post them around. When it turned out they couldn’t keep the puppy at their home because their parents (who hardly bothered to be around, leaving the tutors and staff to raise their kids for them. Yusei hated the type, and had wondered if it might be worse to be orphaned by parents that were still alive than to have parents who could not help their deaths, as his had been unable to do shortly after his birth), Yusei offered to take the puppy off them and allow them to visit whenever they wanted. Leo and Luna still stopped by from time to time at his garage to play with Ben and tell him about school.

The puppy in question stared up at him with a glazed expression as Yusei scratched under Ben’s chin, the puppy’s favorite spot, and tried to sort out his thoughts. He’d been cleaning the kitchen when inspiration struck that morning for the final chapter, and he’d known better than to ignore it. In the past, such strong inspiration tended to come in spurts, and he could always write much better and much more quickly when he was under the influence of one. Inspired genius was always far better than forced genius, as the saying goes (or was that him? Did he make that up just now? He might have done. That could be a good Atem quote.). Pulling out a few drawers, Yusei tried to search around for a pen while simultaneously not disrupting the scratches he was giving Ben with his other hand, though he was not doing a good job if his complaining was anything to go by.

“Sorry, Ben, just got to take this down...”

Finally tracking down a pen, Yusei ripped a bit from a blank sheet of paper on his desk and quickly jotted down _Inspired genius outshines forced genius every time_ , and made a note to look it up later, just in case it had not come from his head. Ben did not make this easy, as he attempted to bite the cinnamon stick and pull it out of Yusei’s mouth.

“Stop it,” he murmured, gently pushing his face way. He circled and underlined _Check source!,_ as if the motion would ensure he’d remember it. He’d had a few scrapes with his editor, Akiza Izinski, catching him using quotes he had floating in his head from various books and films. He wasn’t eager to get another lecture for not double checking again.

In his arms, Ben let out a sudden loud bark, jumping up and biting at Yusei’s mouth in his excitement to get the cinnamon stick, nipping his lip in the process. Yelping, he instinctively tore Ben off and dropped him gently on the ground. “What did I _just_ say about the teeth?”

Whatever reply Ben might have made, were he not a dog and thus disinclined to explain his actions even if he had the power of speech, was cut short by someone pounding on his door with three, loud knocks.

Squinting his eyes, Yusei looked at the door, and then at the clock. His eyes widened suddenly, and then closed as he groaned and brought a hand to cover them in exacerbation.  

Just what he needed when he was trying to finish his book. His asshole ex.

It was entirely his own fault, of course. He’d forgotten entirely that he had arranged to meet him at 11 this morning (not that it was 11, rather it was almost half past, but his ex was not known for being on time, or rather, caring about being on time). It was also his fault for being kinder than he should be, and willingly accepting his request that Yusei fix up his bike and at a reduced fee, no less. The repair job he’d agreed to. The reduced price he had not.

More knocking. “Come on, Yusei, I know you’re here. I heard you cry out. What the hell are you doing?”

Yusei glared down at Ben and pointed an accusatory finger at him. “This is your fault. If you hadn’t used your _teeth_ , we might have been able to pretend to be out. Now if we ignore him we’ll look like assholes.”

Ben, per usual, ignored him, blinking up at him lazily. Figuring he had stalled long enough, Yusei stood slowly, grunting as he stretched out and released the kinks he had built up from sitting hunched over a keyboard typing manically for so long. Standing in the entrance, he gave himself one more shake, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

 

***

 

“What’s it to you if I pay you or not? You don’t fucking need the money.”

“Because I don’t owe you any goddamn favors, Kalin! I didn’t fix your bike up just to be nice!”

“Oh, is that what this is?” Kalin’s smirk and smarmy tone ticked Yusei off like no other. That was Kalin, though. Always had been. He thought he was better than everyone else, the Chosen One, God’s Favorite, faultless to a fault, expecting everyone to willingly kneel down and kiss his ass. Jack and Crow had warned him so many times in the past. Yusei had to wonder how they put up with his stupidity about Kalin for so long.

“I honestly don’t care what you think this is. You can either pay me now, or walk out that door and I’ll hire a lawyer to pursue you. It’s your choice.”

The venom in Kalin’s eyes was not unfamiliar, nor was the look of betrayal. That look used to feel like someone was trying to dig his heart out with a spoon, but it was a relief to find Kalin didn’t hold that power over him any more. The power of it had been worn thin by overuse. It had never taken much for Kalin to feel as if he had been betrayed, a night out without him or even a single missed text message was enough for him to accuse Yusei of cheating. If it wasn’t for Yusei’s hardcore loyalty streak, he probably would have cut things sooner. Now, exposed once again to all his dramatics, he wished that had done just that. He felt so free.

“You don’t want to play tough guy with me, Yusei. I know you better than that.”

“Do you now?” Yusei asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking at his ex in a way that would have made Atem proud. “See, that sounded like a threat to me. If it is, I’m sure my lawyer could do a lot with that. Maybe get me even more than the $190 bucks you owe me. Emotional damages, you know.”

“Fuck you!” Kalin seemed ready to make things physical, but thought better of it. He did like to talk tough, Kalin, but despite Yusei’s short(ish) stature, they both knew Yusei could take him in a fight. A shiner might give him something to talk about at the bar, use it to tell a grand tale about how he got it fighting a gang to stop them beating a puppy or some other ridiculous tale that would be clear to anyone with half a brain as fiction, but he wasn’t keen on pain. Never been very good at handling it.

Instead, trying to maintain some illusion that he had won this fight and had successfully cowed Yusei, he picked up the keys to the bike and dangled them in the air, shaking them like some mocking charm as he backed away to the door. “Then send your big, scary lawyer after me. But I’m taking this back. It’s a better ride than you ever were, anyway.”

Yusei snorted. “Wow. Clever. Did you come up with that one all by yourself? Gold star sticker for Kalin. Now get out.”  

Kalin attempted some sort of grunt which was presumably designed to sound manly and leave Yusei quaking in his boots, but it came off more like his allergies were acting up. With a rebellious and oh so mature bird flipped at Yusei, Kalin made his exit.

Halle-freakin’-lujah.

Just for good measure (not because he was worried in the least that his clearly off-his rocker ex-boyfriend would come bursting back in or….something, totally not), Yusei locked his front door before collapsing into his rather stiff couch.

“Well,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose to stave away a headache he felt forming. “That...that went better than expected. Eh, Ben?”

“That’s hardly saying much, if you were to ask me. That...man, if you can call him that, is a perfect example to point out for proof that some of us possess Neanderthal DNA.”

Yusei sucked in a break so quickly it made a slight squeak as he vacuumed it into his lungs.

That was a voice.

An audible voice.

In his empty apartment.

Didn’t take much math to add up that something wasn’t right.

But the biggest problem was that he _recognized_ that voice. Couldn’t mistake it, not ever.

See, that was an issue, because that voice was not supposed to be heard anywhere except _in his head_.

It was the voice he had carefully constructed for the hero of his mystery series: Atem Sennan, criminal defense attorney extraordinaire. An odd, yet attractive blend of Gregory Peck and Knuckles the Echidna from Sonic the Hedgehog (so he may have...had a bit of a thing for Knuckles, as a kid. He tried not to think too hard on that). But it was a voice he had played through his head for hours each day for the last eight years. It was unmistakable, even if it was now outside of his head.

Even though it shouldn't be.

“Atem, he’s been quiet for a really long time...do you think you upset him?”

“I’m not sure, partner. I must admit, I was not expecting this reaction. He has always appeared to have more wherewithal than this.”

There was that voice again, but now it was accompanied by _another_ voice that definitely should _not_ be audible.

_Breath, just breath, in and out, in and out, in and...and...fuck it._

Not that he genuinely believed he was hearing his characters. Not yet, anyway. No, what was more likely was that he had some intruders in his house that just coincidentally sounded exactly like his hero characters.

Yusei honestly wasn’t sure which would be worse.

Glancing around, Yusei tried to find some object to use to defend himself with.

“There is no need to bother with that, Fudo. We are not here to harm you. ”

Yeah. Sure. That sounded completely trustworthy, Yusei thought, continuing his search.

That deep baritone chuckled. “Perhaps not, but I suggest you try to believe me anyhow.”

Did he say his thought out loud?

“I am not hearing this. I should _not_ be hearing this.” His fingers dug into the hair at his temples as he tried to control his breathing, listening hard for movement around him.

“Whether you should or should not be hearing us doesn’t much matter, at the moment,” that deep timber responded, nearly reverberating through Yusei’s chest. “I would suggest you open your eyes, and then decide how to proceed.”

That might not be a bad idea. It wasn’t like this was the first time he’d had a dream where he met his characters before, and surely if he opened his eyes he would find he _had_ just been dreaming. Maybe just a result of the stress of dealing with Kalin. He’d sat down on the sofa and nodded off without realizing it. That had to be it. And it if wasn’t, if he was just crazy, or it was some intruder, then...well, he’d burn that bridge when he came to it. Or at least call Martha. Maybe she could write him a prescription.

Just to be sure, he gave his arm a hard pinch before opening his eyes.

And there they were. Not impressive or intimidating in stature, for certain. He’d written them that way on purpose, wanting to make a bit of a unique spin on the typical tall, dark, and handsome archetypes that populated the mystery genre.

Atem smiled down at him, dressed in one of his finely tailored suits and stylishly paired Gucci dress shoes, his stance positively radiating gentrified regallaty. Arching one eyebrow, the smile turned into his trademark smirk, and he lowered his chin to look at Yusei through his brows.

“Ah, Mr. Fudo-or perhaps I should call you “Creator?”- it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. In this realm, at any rate.”

It was at that point that the total bulk of insanity and stress caused one Yusei Fudo to black out.

 

***

 

A few hours later, Yusei found himself with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a pillow pressed into his middle with his other arm, curled into his seat on the couch. His eyes never wavered as he watched, silently, as figures he created six years ago explored his home, speaking between themselves. For the most part they left Yusei to his silent vigil, though Yugi would occasionally throw him a considering look of concern. Atem completely ignored him. He had decided, after Yusei had woken from his faint, that it would be for the best if they gave him time to acclimate to their presence by not pressuring him to interact.

And hadn’t that hadn’t been a twilight zone type of disturbia? Waking up from a faint over seeing your characters come to life only to have one of them leaning over you, sharp green eyes analyzing your face critically.

Naturally, his first instinct was to strike out with a cry.

Atem had stumbled back, holding his cheek and glaring daggers at Yusei, as Yugi exclaimed and hurried to Atem’s side.

“Atem, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, partner. Just a little worse for wear, a fine gift for my concern over Creator over there.”

“Whoa, whoa, don’t give me shit for that,” Yusei replied breathlessly, his voice an octave or two higher than normal. “That is a totally justified reaction to waking up to anyone hovering three inches from your face, especially someone who _shouldn’t be here_.”

“What do you mean we shouldn’t be here?” Yugi questioned, his brow furrowed. “You created us. Where else would we appear in the real world?”

“My partner makes an excellent point,” Atem grimaced, pulling his hand away from his cheek to check for injury. It was red, but otherwise unharmed. “Where else would we turn up in this world if not wherever you are? However,” he added, seeing Yusei about to rebuttal. “I suspect more to your point was how we, figments of your imagination until not an hour ago, could be here with you in the first place.”

“That question did cross my mind, yeah.” Narrowing his eyes, Yusei looked between them. “Are you some kind of fans? If you are, how did you find me?”

Atem’s lip curled in displeasure. “ _Fans_?” he drawled tightly.

“Or actors. Did someone hire you to prank me like this? It has to be either Jack, Crow, or Akiza. Their the only ones who know I’m the author.”

“Wha-we’re not actors!” Yugi sounded surprisingly indignant for him. “We’re us! Don’t you recognize us?”

“Yugi has a point,” Atem glared at Yusei, still looking put out by the insinuations that they could be obsessed fans. “Does it seem likely to you that either Jack, Crow, or Akiza would risk giving away your anonymity by hiring actors to play your characters?”

“No, not exa-”

“And does it seem likely to you that some _fans_ could uncover your identity, which is quite literally kept under lock and key, track down your home address, dress themselves in costumes to look like your characters, break into your apartment, and proceed to portray said characters to a t?”

“No, but-”

“And on top of either of those possibilities, is it likely that not only one of those two options has occurred, but that we could look and sound _exactly_ as you have envisioned, even down to detailed you have not disclosed in any of your novels? Like the fact that my voice sounds like a combination of Gregory Peck and Knuckles the Echidna-a comparison I’d like to have a word with you about one of these days, by the by.”

“How...I have never told anyone that...” Yusei stared at him with wide eyes, mouth agape. “How can you know that I-”

“-that you created my voice to sound like a gifted classic film actor and an animated talking rodent? Only if I existed in your head for some time.”

Silence. Yusei stared at them, and they stared back. Finally, Yusei fell against the couch cushions, staring blankly into space. “I’ve totally lost it, haven’t I?”

His voice was surprisingly steady, considering he was coming to accept that he’d gone crazy. It wasn’t like he hadn’t joked with Jack and Crow that he had to be crazy, to live in a imaginary world with characters he had created for more hours out of the day than he dwelt in the real world. His castle in the sky, his Middle Earth. Sure, it was just a courtroom in a gritty, noir style L.A, but it was _his_ , and he could control it a hell of a lot better than he could this one. It was a kind of control he found comforting, given the lack of control he’d had most of his life.

It was really coming back to bite him in the ass, wasn’t it?

At some point, he became aware that Atem and Yugi were trying to talk to him, but he just couldn’t. He’d hit a wall, as far as this was concerned, and no amount of talking to him right now was going to peel him off it right now.

Which is how he found himself staring blearily at the two of them silently as he took another swig off his whiskey, helpfully provided for him by Yugi at some point.   

Something flicked in his line of vision, and Yusei blinked rapidly to dispel it. Looking up, he realized Atem had approached him and snapped his fingers in front of his eyes.

“Ah, there he is,” Atem sat back on his heels, eyeing Yusei wearily. “I know this is quite some shock to you, but I think a couple of hours to brood is sufficient. Now, I propose we discuss our plans.”

“Plans?” Yusei replied dully. Judging by the weight of his tongue, the whiskey was doing its job on his bodily functions. Less so on his ruminating mind, unfortunately.

“Yes, plans. Since Yugi and I plan to become a part of this world permanently, we will need to acquire essentials, such as identification, clothing, jobs. Given the extent to which we must falsify these documents, I think there is a decent chance Yugi and I might be able to get someone to falsify our law credentials. We already know the law from your diligent research and excellently crafted novels, which just lack the piece of paper to say so for employment purposes. Perhaps you could contact that source you spoke to about fake IDs, the one with the unfortunate name-what was it?- ah, yes, Blister.”

“Hold it,” Yusei interrupted, holding out a hand. “I’m in no mood to be discussing fake ids and clothes shopping for you two. I’m not even convinced you two are _real_ yet-”

The doorbell rang, halting Yusei in the middle of his thought.

“Ah, perfect timing,” Atem approached the door, unlocking and opening the door before Yusei could get his brain to register why this might be a _very bad idea_.

“Wait-!”

On the other side of the door stood Crow in his Blackbird Delivery outfit, wearing a grin and dangling a plastic bag from Crimson Dragon Chinese on the end of two fingers. His smile faded as he realized the man in the doorway was not who he expected.

“...Hey, Yus, and...who the heck are these dudes?”

Atem raised a brow, likely displeased at being referred to as a “dude.” Yusei was beginning to really regret making him so proud.

Wait.

Crow could see him, too?

Atem turned to him with a sly smile, and that was when it clicked. He’d called Crow to deliver, so he would have someone to substantiate that they were real.

So that meant…?

“Yusei, why don’t you introduce us to the delivery man.” It came out as a clear order rather than a request.

Yeah, the pride thing was going to be a real bitch, he could already tell.

Deciding to put a pin in that until later (especially given the way Crow was looking like he was about to rebut Atem for calling him “delivery man”), Yusei stood, thinking quicker than he had in his entire life.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he decided to play it casual. “Hey, Crow,” He inclined his head at the other two. “These two are...cousins. From out of town. They’re here to visit for a bit.”

“Why, _cousin_ , aren’t you going to tell…“Crow,” here our names?” It was truly remarkable how absolutely _irritating_ the normally stoic and good natured Atem could be when he wanted to be. It was also rather impressive how clearly the quotation marks could be heard around Crow’s name as he said it, questioning it and mocking it at the same time.

Yusei forced a smile, gritting his teeth. “Of course, _cousin,_ I was just getting to that. The quiet guy over here we call Yugi, and the loudmouth is...is Adam.”

Crow raised his brows, then leaned forward and spoke in a whisper. “Yugi and Adam? You mean, kind of like those...Atem Sennen books?”

“Yeah, got their permission to use their names for the characters. They kind of inspired the idea because they are in law, so it seemed like a good way to acknowledge them.”

“We’re really flattered that Yusei would do that, too,” Yugi chimed in. “Aren’t we, Adam?”

The scandalized look Atem shot Yugi at using the fake name Yusei had given him was priceless, and Yusei very nearly lost his mask. The normally completely devoted Yugi had caught on to Yusei’s plan to get back at Atem’s insufferability by having people call him by _just_ the wrong name and was playing along. Yusei shot Yugi a wink, which he reciprocated with a grin. In the doorway, Crow was watching them with narrowed eyes, his gaze flicking between them as if he couldn’t quite decide who he should be analyzing here. He was positive Crow suspected something was odd here, Crow wasn’t an idiot and the three of them were acting about as suspicious as kids that had been caught sneaking into the kitchen for the cookie jar. Hopefully, Atem took the hint and went with it, his pride be damned.

“Yes...” He murmured, picking at some imaginary bit of dust on his perfectly tailored suit. “Words fail me.”   

“Oookay...” Crow gave them each one last look before returning his gaze to Yusei and gesturing the bag of food toward him. “Well, here’s your delivery.”

“Thanks,” Yusei grabbed for the bag, and Crow caught his eye giving him a significant/ look.

_This isn’t over._

Yusei nodded silently, which seemed to satisfy his friend. Stepping back, Crow gave them a short salut.

“See you all around.”

The moment the door closed, Yusei turned to Atem and Yugi, holding his hands out at them to keep them quiet.

“Okay, okay, so...so you two are actually real?”

“Yep!”

Yusei side glanced at Atem, somewhat surprised that he was letting Yugi do the answering. It seemed he was giving him the cold shoulder at the moment for the “Adam” thing. Ah, well.

“So how the hell does this work?”

Yugi peaked at Atem himself, but seeing that he was the one left to explain the complicated, he sighed and gave Yusei a shrug. “It’s kind of complicated to explain, but it’s also kind of simple. Basically, you made us so three dimensional and realistic that we were able to come alive, really come alive, so...we did.”

“What, just...poof?”

“Yep. Pretty much.”

“As engaging as this conversation is,” Atem drawled. “Why don’t we continue it as we go out to buy some clothing?”

“But you just had dinner delivered-”

“Yes, and I am quite certain these occasions are exactly why the microwave was invented.”

“Uh un, no,” Yusei shook his head, carrying the bag to the dining table and setting it down. “Food first, then shopping. I’m not going to drive around tipsy, anyway.”

“I could-”

“No,” Yusei intoned, pointing the disposable chopsticks at Atem for emphasis. “I don’t care if you can drive in my books, I am not going to test out if you can in the real world. Assuming you aren’t in my head.”

Apparently deciding not to argue either the driving or the fact of their reality, Atem sighed his resignation and dutifully sat at the table.

Well, that was something.

“I suppose if food will keep you from causing an accident, then I can indulge.”

Or not.

 

***

   

The short statured invasion had been in his home for nearly two weeks. Yusei still found himself on some mornings walking into the kitchen, only to hold back a shout of surprise when he found Atem making coffee. Atem had practically commandeered the coffee maker, as he seemed to think Yusei’s way of making coffee was “sacrilege to the name of a good roast,” whatever the hell that meant. So he liked to make his coffee strong. It wasn’t his fault if Atem had tried to stomach a mug of it undiluted the first day after he and Yugi had “popped in”, and ended up holding up the guest bathroom for much of an afternoon. Well, _technically_ it might be, but Atem shouldn’t be so damn proud and just add some water and cream to it.

Meanwhile, Yugi had gained a fascination with his shelf of games, most of which hadn’t been touched in years. He spent much of the days in the living room, quietly playing solo, mostly Mage Knight and Eldritch Horror. His boyish enthusiasm for them was infectious, and it didn’t take much for him to convince Yusei and Atem to join him almost nightly in some game or another. Naturally, Clue had been Atem’s first pick. That was until the Great Clue Debacle of 2018, after he kept trying to manipulate the rules like he was in court.

“What home owner in their right mind would have a lead pipe just lying around? How is that a feasible weapon?”

“Atem…” Yusei groaned, his voice the tone of one that had been subjugated to the same torture over and over again. “It’s a game. Don’t question it.”

“Really, Yusei, would you seriously consider using a _lead pipe_ as a believable murder weapon?”

“I am at the moment.” He’d replied with a glare.

The conversation after that had dissolved into anger unbefitting of the actual problem and with language that would make Donald Trump blush and act demure.

Outside the occasional disagreements between him and Atem, for the most part it hadn’t been too difficult living with two fictional characters he had created. Maybe that shouldn’t be such a surprise; after all, he had been kind of living with them for the last six years in his head. There _was_ the fact that Atem was particular about how certain things were cleaned or how the dishwasher was loaded, and Yugi had a tendency to forget to put away all of the board game pieces (he was permanently antagonistic to the Monopoly battleship after it declared war on the sole of his foot). He was also fairly certain one (Atem) or both of them had been sneaking out after he had gone to bed, as he had heard the door open and close after midnight on at least two occasions.

Yusei had made a conscious decision to not worry about it.

In fact, everything had been pretty calm the last two weeks, considering. It was even kind of...fun. Despite the craziness (possibly quite literally, though it was seeming more and more likely Atem and Yugi were actually real), Yusei had managed to finish his manuscript of _The Case of the Constant Companion_ and felt rather proud of it. His good mood didn’t even disappear when Kalin showed up, complaining that his bike wasn’t running properly again. He even let him leave without paying in advance as he had planned to should he ever (stupidly, he had to admit) agreed to work on Kalin’s bike again. It was a quick fix, though, and he’d picked it up that morning and given Yusei a $20 “for your trouble.”

There was, of course, also the benefit of two roomates. Though he was loath to admit it, he did feel a bit lonely living on his own. The company was nice to have, even if in a sense he had to wonder if he was keeping his own company, since Atem and Yugi were born from his brain.

If he thought about it too much, he’d get an aneurysm.

So things were going rather well, all things considered.

Until the cops showed up.

They stopped by one afternoon not long after they finished eating lunch.

Yusei was in the kitchen doing the dishes when the sharp knock came. Atem’s head turned up quickly at the sound, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. He’d heard that knock on many occasions throughout his career. It was rarely a good sign.

“I’ll get it,” he called out absently, approaching the door. Straightening his suit, adjusting his posture, Atem opened the door and plastered on his best surprised but congenial smile.

“Ah, the police,” he nodded. “May I help you?”

Two officers stood on the other side of the door. The tallest of the two was a large, gruff looking man with calculating eyes that tried to size Atem up, but did not appear to be particularly gifted at it. The other as a woman of middling hight who seemed far more professional and with it all than her partner. Assuming, of course, that he was reading them right, which he almost always was.

“Are you Yusei Fudo?”

“No, no, I’m his cousin...Adam. He is busy at the moment. Perhaps I could-?”

“No, we need to talk to Mr. Fudo urgently.”

“What’s going on?”

The three looked in the direction of the kitchen, seeing Yusei standing there, perplexed expression on his face as he dried his hands on a dish towel.

“Are you Yusei Fudo?”

The crease between Yusei’s brows deepend. “Yeah, I am. Why do you ask?”

She held up her badge for him to see. “My name is Officer Simington **,** and this is my partner Officer Trudge. I’m here to discuss an incident that occurred earlier this afternoon that we believe you may be able to shed some light on.”

“And...what incident is that?”

Maybe it was the sixth sense that Yusei had instilled in him, but Atem had a feeling, a premonition if you will, before the words left Officer Simington’s mouth, so he was not as surprised as he may have been when she spoke.

“There was a vehicular accident at approximately 1:15 this afternoon. A Mr. Kalin Kessler was involved.”

Yusei’s eyes widened, and his breath came out in one big woosh. “Oh my God. Is he okay?”

Officer Simington shook her head. “No, I’m afraid he’d dead.” Narrowing her eyes. She zeroed in on Yusei’s stunned face. “And our preliminary examination shows that his motorcycle was tampered with. It appears to be murder.”

 

***   

   

Once again, Yusei found Yugi pressing a glass of whiskey into his hand to steady his nerves. It occurred to him that Yugi often did something similar for Atem, though he had never described it as a way to ease Atem’s anxiety. Atem was the hero, he didn’t _need_ alcohol to steady his nerves. He didn’t get attached enough to his clients to feel worried about them. It was the biggest flaw he’d given him, along with his pride. So he didn’t need a drink to calm down, and this behavior from Yugi seemed to be all for him.

At the moment, he was incredibly grateful for it.

Gripping the glass tightly for a source of strength, he looked up at the officers, noting how they eyed him critically.

“I’m sorry,” he tried to keep the shaking out of his voice, but to no avail. “I’m having trouble wrapping my mind around this.”

“It’s a shock, I’m sure,” Officer Simington replied, though something in her voice made it sound like she _didn’t_ think it was a shock. His gut clenched, even as he nodded in response. He wrote mysteries for a living, and he done some pretty damn good research before getting started, He knew how police procedures worked. Jilted, recent ex that had just worked on Kalin’s bike? He’d put himself high up on the list of suspects. The fact that he didn’t do it hardly helped.

He also made a living out of framing innocent people for murder so that his hero could come in and prove their innocence. The fact he didn’t do it wasn’t helping his nerves all that much.

"We just have a couple of questions at this time, Mr. Fudo.” Officer Simington continued, pulling out a notebook and pen from a pocket and flipping it open. “A friend of his told us he was coming up here today. Is that correct?”

Yusei nodded. Better to be honest than not. If he was willing to be totally honest that was less likely to make him look guilty, wasn’t it? “Yeah, he did. He came by to pick up his bike from me. He was having some issue with it.”

“What kind of issues?”

“Um, it was bad spark plugs. Kalin was never good about cleaning his bike. I think he thought a dirty bike made him look cooler. Really screws with the bike when you don’t clean it, and he had gone long enough that the spark plugs were so caked in it that they ended up getting shot. Had to replace them.”

Was he babbling? It sounded a bit like he was babbling. He did that talking about bikes. Might not look good in a police report, though.

“How well did you know Mr. Kessler?”

Movement to his left distracted him momentarily, and he looked over to see Atem inching forward to stand next to Yusei’s elbow. His expression was carefully blank, but Yusei could recognize the intent there. He was playing his role.

“We, uh, he is-was- my ex. We dated for five months.”

“And when did he end it?”

“ _I_ ended it about three months ago.”

Officer Trudge, who had largely allowed Simington to take charge while he stared at her dewy eyed (he wasn’t even a _little_ subtle), butt in. “His friend told us he ended it with you, and that the breakup wasn’t well received.”

Yusei managed to hold back from rolling his eyes, but just barely. “Kalin wasn’t the type to admit to everyone that someone could refuse him, so I’m not surprised.”

“Can I ask why you ended it?”

“Well, there was the waitress at Cooper’s Town, then the bartender at Stillhouse Pub, and then at least two wanna be rockers at a Battle of the Bands we went to in month five. Take your pick.”

“So he was unfaithful?”

“You could call it that, yeah.”

Beside him, Atem snorted.

“And were you often in the habit of doing mechanical work for ex-boyfriends that had cheated on you?”

“That’s a rather loaded and leading question, don’t you think?” Atem stepped in.

“We are just trying to establish the circumstances of their relationship, sir.” Officer Simmington’s voice was smooth, intending to reassure.

“By asking a question about his dead ex-boyfriend that is clearly laced with judgement?”

“It’s okay, Atem.” Yusei put his hand on Yusei’s elbow to stop him. The last thing they needed right now was for Atem to go full Atem Sennen, Criminal Defense Attorney Extraordinaire, Hero of the Innocent and draw suspicion to him and Yugi. “I wasn’t in the habit of it, no. But he called me up a couple of weeks ago to wanting to know if I could look at his bike for him. I wasn’t exactly comfortable with it, but I guess I felt bad saying no. He was a friend for years before we started dating, and I dated him a lot longer and put up with his excuses for a lot longer than I probably should have. So I said sure, and I did the work for him. I just didn’t give him a deal like he expected.”

“And did you argue about this deal he wanted?”

Yusei winced. “Yeah, a little bit. He thought I still had enough of a soft spot for him to give in, but I refused. He took the keys and left without paying.”

“He owed you money, then?” Officer Trudge asked, with some satisfaction.

That seemed to be the last straw for Atem.

“What exactly are you implying, Officer Trudge?”

“Well, it seems rather suspicious that this ex boyfriend left here and died due to tampering with his bike when not only did he have a contentious relationship with Mr. Fudo, he also owed him money.”

Atem rolled his eyes, and turned to Yusei. “How much money did he owe you for the work?”

“About $320 for both jobs.”

Turning to level Trudge with one of his trademark shark looks (a rather hilarious image given that Trudge was about a foot taller and 150 pounds heavier than Atem), Atem replied breezily. “So your theory, as I gather, is that having cut Mr. Kessler out of his life completely three months ago, he agreed to do repairs to his bike which totaled a measly $320. Anticipating that Mr. Kessler would not pay him, he sabotaged the bike in such a fundamental way that it was clearly observable to police in a brief inquiry rather than use his expert knowledge of motorcycle mechanics to do so in a way that would not be noticeable and lead police to determine the crash an accident. Not only that, but he also decided to kill Mr. Kessler for the $320 he assumed would not be paid to him in a way that would clearly draw all suspicion to himself as the one who had done the work on the bike. Is that correct?”

The silence in the room was nearly oppressive as all eyes rested on Atem. It seemed Atem was rather enjoying the attention, perhaps enjoying the comfort of the familiar. Eventually, Trudge seemed to find his words in the pit that was his brain, and he narrowed his eyes at Atem.

“And who the hell do you think you are? Watch a lot of crime shows and think your an expert, huh?”

To be fair, that kind of _is_ how Yusei got the bulk of the information that he put into Atem’s head.

“If you must know, I am a trained criminal defense attorney, though I am...on sabbatical for the time being, as I rather needed a break from it all. My cousin and I are staying with our distant cousin Yusei here for the an indeterminate amount of time while I plan my next move, as it were.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you, officers?” Yusei interjected quickly. Off to his side her could _feel_ the glare Atem leveled his way, but he ignored it.

“Not at this time, no.” Simmington eyed him suspiciously for a moment, then pocketed her notebook. “We’ll contact you with more questions at a later time.”

The moment they were out the door, Atem turned fully towards Yusei. “Why did you stop me?”

“Because they were _this_ close to asking you for identification.” Yusei replied, holding up his index and thumb to demonstrate. “And how do you think it would have looked if they had seen Atem Sennen on your driver’s license, assuming you even brought one with you?”

“I was trying to protect you!”

Yusei grimaced. “And I appreciate that. But you can’t act like you belong in this world just because you want to. As far as the government is concerned, you don’t exist. You really think it is going to do me any favors right now if it turns out I am also housing two illegal aliens?”

Atem crossed his arms and looked at the floor. “...no, it wouldn’t.” He grumbled.

“Then do me a favor and toe the line until this whole mess is cleared up.” Yusei’s voice booked no argument.

 

***

 

For the rest of the evening, Yusei seemed like an overblown balloon, ready to burst at any second. Yugi had been walking on eggshells ever since the police left. Atem was more than willing to leave Yusei to his own devices, but when Yugi had given him a pleading look and asked him to do something for their creator, well... who could ever say no to those panda eyes? Naturally, Yugi’s intention had been that Atem would lend Yusei a shoulder to cry on, whereas Atem tended more towards liquored up his distraught friends. Perhaps not equally healthy, but both methods tended to achieve the same result: Water works and no filters. It was with this in mind that Atem asked Yusei to join him for a drink on the roof (which was, thankfully, quite flat). The other man had raised a brow out the invitation, but nonetheless put on a coat and followed Atem outside.

The roof of the garage really did make a wonderful spot for a drink. The street below was well lit and surprisingly lovely to gaze at, and the few stars that could be seen this close to the city were bright and flickering. Yusei and he each held a glass of whiskey, sipping at them in relative silence. Until Atem decided to break it, that is.

“You’re troubled.”

Yusei laughed ruefully. “No, I’m as happy as a drunk with a self-refilling flask.”

Atem did not bother to respond to that sarcasm. He waited for a beat before attempting again.

“Why?”

Yusei glanced sideways at him, perhaps judging him for his sincerity. “Why do you care?”

Atem gave him a one shouldered shrug. “I don’t know. You tell me. You created me, after all.”

There was a quiet, far away look in Yusei’s eyes. “Yeah, yeah I did.” he replied quietly.

“Plus, I would like to think we have become friends by now.”

This seemed to startle the other man, as Yusei looked at him now fully, a sort of wonder in his expression. Atem simply offered another shrug. “Take your pick.”

Nothing but the sound of the minimal traffic down below and the occasional bird broke the silence for sometime. Atem was almost certain Yusei would not engage further when he was surprised by the other man speaking up.

“I was borderline accused for murder,” Yusei said, so lightly that it was immidietly suspicious. “I suppose that’s...kind of unsettling.”

Atem said nothing, watching the other man closely. He had enough experience with burdened people to know when they were building up to a story. Yusei was on his way to one.

“I mean, I can hardly blame them,” Yusei continued as he rubbed at his lip, his hand unsteady. He took a sip off the whiskey before continuing. “A crazy writer that has a past with the victim isn’t a bad suspect.”

Atem frowned, watching as Yusei continued to work his drink. “We’ve already established that you are not crazy. Mine and Yugi’s existence is real, as you full well know by this point. Why do you insist otherwise?”

Yusei shrugged, leaning back on his elbows and stretching his legs out along the roof. He stared out at the cars passing by, their passing headlights lighting up his face sporadically in the night. Atem realized just how _tired_ he looked. The case was weighing more heavily on him than he’d realized, and he cursed inwardly at his ignorance. He was crafted to be observant, but he couldn’t seem to read his own creator all that well at all. It was infuriating. And he felt a twinge of guilt for it, though he couldn’t place why.

“Yusei?” he pressed.

The other man didn’t reply at first. After a time, Atem saw rather than heard him heave a heavy sigh.

“You and Yugi, being here, becoming real...I think that’s a sign of my madness, even if you aren't just in my head. Maybe _more_ so, because you are real.”

“I...I don’t follow.” And wasn’t that just pain of this for him? He could never follow Yusei, not really. How someone could be an enigma to him when he was literally born from his imagination was as much a mystery to him as the man himself.    

Again, Yusei stayed quiet, but this time Atem could at least read that it was not due to avoidance, but just an attempt to find his words.

“Do you remember when you were created? Or do you only remember when you became real enough to have a conscience?”

Atem blinked, completely unprepared for the question. That wasn’t where he thought this would turn.

“I...well,” he coughed, to try to hide his surprise. “I’m not sure if I can be certain of that. I only know when I gained awareness. You were in the middle of writing the first book, as I recall. Yugi gained consciousness a little while after I did.”

Yusei nodded, tapping the tips of his fingers of his free hand together in a random pattern as he thought. “That makes sense. Martha, my foster mother, died about six months before I started the book.”

Yusei glanced at Atem out of the corner of his eye, perhaps to judge his reaction, before he looked back at the passing cars pressed on. “But that isn’t when I created you.”

Atem felt his eyebrows rise of their own accord in surprise. “It’s not?”

Yusei shook his head. “No, you were created a lot earlier..”

“When?”

He bit his lip. “I was...I think I was about six.”

“ _Six_?” He couldn’t keep the shock from his voice. “But...how could I be 20 years older than I thought?”

“I have no idea. I don’t know how character sentience works.” He started to take another swig of whiskey, but stopped, looked at the glass for a moment, and then rested it on his chest. “But I remember when I created you, though you weren’t exactly _you_ yet. You were...you were kind of my imaginary friend.”

That was….well, it was a revelation.

Yusei smirked, raising an eyebrow at him in an attempt at relaxed teasing that didn’t quite work. “What, you thought I watched Sonic cartoons as an adult and decided to base my handsome hero's voice on an animated _monotreme_?”

“A what?”

Yusei’s smirk became a genuine grin. Atem’s heart did something funny at that; no doubt a strange reaction to his relief. “Echidnas aren’t rodents. Their monotremes. It’s a type of egg laying mammal, only one along with the platypus.”

Atem snorted and shook his head. His creator. Full of such useless facts.

“I still don’t see how this makes you crazy.”

Yusei’s expression darkened. Atem could have slapped himself. Why did Yusei make him so direct? A flair for subtlety in personal relations would be incredibly useful right now.

Still, Yusei responded. “I created you back then because I was lonely, and I...I had a lot of pain, emotionally. I had already been in a few foster homes at that point, and none of them were great. At that point, I just...needed someone to talk to. So I created this cool friend, an adult that could protect me from the other kids, or console me when the other adults wouldn’t. You were like a barrier between me and the reality of my situation.”

_Oh, Yusei_ …

“Then Martha came in, and she already had Crow and Jack in her care, and...and we became the kind of family I always wanted. But I kept you around for a long time afterward, even though I didn’t really need your protection any more. I’d...I’d grown attached to this imaginary figure, so much so that you felt like a real person to me, and it felt losing someone really important to me. Getting rid of you felt like a death. So I just….didn’t. I just tried to push you to the back of my mind. But I still “visited” you, from time to time, when things got bad. And then...then Martha died.”

He trailed off. For the first time since the conversation had begun, Yusei looked up at him, meeting his eye. “I was...I pushed everyone away, Jack, and Crow, and I just….closed up. I had my own place by then, and I was working at a garage. I barely spoke to anyone at work, and then I would just come home and stay there, and I started...I started talking to you again. But now I was in my early twenties, and I was talking to a figment of my imagination rather than facing reality. I went to a therapist, and she told me I should start writing to get my feelings out. So I did. And it kind of...started to morph into a story.”

He laughed, though it sounded painfully bitter. “I guess even then I couldn’t look at my problems as reality. I had to put them into fiction.” He shook his head. “Anyway, when I started actually trying to plot the first book, and I came up with the idea of a court drama, you seemed the obvious pick for the hero. You know, the protector, the counselor, the...the barrier between the innocent defendant and death.”

“So that’s what I mean. You and Yugi...you aren’t signs of a great imagination. You’re signs of someone that is so emotionally stunted that they can’t face their own reality decided to live in their own world so much that it became as real to them as the one they actually exist in. And if that isn’t madness, I don’t know what is.”

“But...it isn’t madness.”

Yusei eyed him hazily. Atem wasn’t sure if the haze was from the alcohol, his emotional pain, or both. “How do you figure that?”

Scooting close, Atem leaned back on his side so that he could look Yusei more evenly in the eye. “You call it madness, but I...I call it survival.”

Yusei’s breath hitched, but he didn’t try to interrupt. Atem hurried on before he could.

“You suffered more at a young age than anyone should,” he said carefully. “And you did what many children do. You created an imaginary friend that could help you deal with your reality. The fact that you couldn’t let me go is not a failing of yours, but of the people that cared for you before Martha. You had to cling to m-to your imaginary friend, because the adults around you didn’t do their job. And when you went to Martha, and couldn’t let that friend go, well, is it any wonder? Everyone else had failed you before, so some part of you clung to the one person who hadn’t. And when the one person you knew in your adult life passed away, you looked to that imaginary figure again in your grief. I cannot imagine how deep your pain must have been at first. Some turn to drugs, or alcohol, or self-destructive practices when they are hurting that deeply. But you turned to _self_ \- _creation_. You built something from pain, as many of the greatest artists have done, and you created a better life for yourself. And when you came out of it, you reconnected with your friends, you built something from it, and found contentment. That takes a strength few have, and should be praised, not criticized.” Hesitantly, he reached out and awkwardly wrapped an arm around Yusei’s shoulders. “You aren’t crazy, you're just far stronger than you can comprehend.”

Yusei stared up at him with wide, watery eyes, his gaping lips trembling slightly. Then, he gave a heaving breath, and leaned hard into Atem’s shoulder. Atem looked down at the other man in shock, but quickly regained his composure and wrapped his other arm around Yusei’s torso, pulling him in deeply until his face was cradled in the crook of Atem’s neck. He felt Yusei cling to him tightly, and distantly heard the whiskey glass slide down the roof and catch in the gutter as he left go of it and wrapped both arms tightly around Atem. More instinctively than through any conscious action, Atem nuzzled Yusei’s hair.

He was created to protect and comfort. He would do just that.

“I’m here, Yusei. I’m not going anywhere.”

Yusei gave no verbal response, but the way he squeezed him more firmly seemed answer enough. He wasn’t good at reading him yet, not by far, but he could understand that much.

_Thank you._

 

_***_

 

Yusei retired to bed not long after their drink. He had shuffled off to bed with a barely audible goodnight, his shoulders slumped, no doubt from the weight of the day and his emotional release. It was sure to weigh heavily on anyone, the kind of turmoil he’d been through in just the last twelve hours. Atem pondered, as he watched Yusei close the door to his bedroom, if his and Yugi’s arrival was timely or terrible for their creator. His heart squeezed oddly at the thought.

Turning, he found Yugi preparing the couch for bed (Yugi having kindly called the couch as his slightly smaller stature would fit more comfortably on the sofa than Atem’s.)

“What are you doing, partner?”

“Getting ready for bed,” Yugi replied as he fluffed one of the rather thin pillows Yusei had on hand. For someone with extra cash to spare, Yusei certainly did not go all out with his bedding or linens. “I’m beat after today.” A frown marred his face. “Probably not as beat as Yusei, though. I’m worried about him.”

“Yes,” Atem said slowly, rubbing at the center of his chest. “Yusei had had a most trying day. I’m afraid we have not helped much on that front.”

“Maybe...maybe we shouldn’t have come.” Yugi murmured thoughtfully. “I mean, we don’t _belong_ here, not really. Just because we were able to come to life doesn’t mean we should have.”

“Nonsense,” Atem responded, ignoring the voice in his head that had been wondering the same thing. “If Yusei’s imagination gave us enough power to come to life, then we have a right to manifest here. Yusei will come to understand that, if he doesn’t already.”

“I’m not sure that having a right to it means we should do it, though. All we’ve done since we got here is make Yusei feel like he is going insane. It might be good for us, but I’m….I’m frightened.”

Atem’s eyes widened, and he took a step closer to Yugi. “Frightened?”

Yugi nodded, his eyes steadfastly on the couch as he wrung the sheet in his hands. “I’m frightened that we’re breaking Yusei apart.”

Atem stuffed his hands in his back pockets and fidgeted with his lucky doubloon, (something he was immensely grateful to find had been transferred over with him). It probably wouldn’t due to tell Yugi the details of his and Yusei’s conversation that night.

“Agreed,” he finally spoke gruffly. “Which is why tonight, we are going to do something about it.”

Yugi stood straighter, his eyes narrowing in what Atem termed his “serious face,” though in reality it did very little to instill solemnity in anyone. “What’s your plan?”

Good, loyal Yugi. Always willing to help. Yusei really had crafted a true gem in his partner.

“Well, for starters, I would like to go out tonight to make a few...inquiries.”

Yugi frowned. “Are we going to do anything that could stress Yusei out more? Because it kind of sounds like it.”

“On the contrary, what I have in mind should ease much of his fears. With any luck, we can exonerate him of Kessler’s death tonight.”

This seemed to cheer Yugi enough to sway him towards his plan without further question, so the two of them grabbed jackets and headed out into the crisp night air. Without hesitation, Atem began to walk catty corner to the mechanics shop, where a clean cut looking bar stood. It even looked appropriately full, like the ideal “sophisticated” edgy neighborhood hang out should, full of well-dressed businessmen whose idea of letting loose was having a gin and tonic rather than an old fashioned. As they approached the bar, Atem slowed down his pace a bit, looking around the exterior, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

“How is going to a bar going to exonerate Yusei?”

“Simple,” Atem responded, the word trailing off as he focused. His expression suddenly lightened, a self satisfied grin overcoming his face. He nodded his head towards the upper left corner of the building. “The best way to exonerate Yusei is to find some proof that someone else sabotaged the bike. The best possible way to do that is which an eyewitness or some other visual proof. Since eye witnesses are likely to only be random passerby, it would be near impossible to track down such an individual. But a security camera,” He pointed, and Yugi finally saw what he was indicating. Somewhat difficult to see was a security camera in the uppermost left corner of the building. It was pointed in the direction of Yusei’s garage.

“A security camera can show us the perpetrator, if we’re lucky.”

“Don’t you think the police would have checked for cameras?”

Atem shrugged, opening the door and motioning for Yugi to enter ahead of him. “It is possible, but I suspect not. They see Yusei as their most likely suspect, and since he would have taken the bike into the garage to work on it, these security cameras wouldn’t catch him in the act. It wouldn’t serve the case they are trying to build. But someone breaking in _would_ be in the viewline of this camera and possibly some others we didn’t see. If we can show someone breaking into the gate around Yusei’s lot, then we should have sufficient reasonable doubt to suggest it wasn’t him.”

“That’s awesome!” Yugi exclaimed. “But how are we going to get the footage?”

“Leave that to me, partner.”

Though he was somewhat out of practice when it came to “charming” other, one of the bartenders was moved enough by his story of finding out who broke into his dear friend’s garage (and, yes, perhaps his slight flirting may have helped), that the red faced young man shyly showed them to where they kept the tv monitors for the security cameras.

“The owner typically takes away the weeks’ discs every Sunday, so we should have the ones for last night and the night before on hand somewhere,” he explained as they approached a shelf of disks labeled with the date. Pulling two out, he sat at the monitors and loaded them. “What time did you say you wanted to check?”

“From about 4 pm on Tuesday through this morning at around 11:30. Fast forwarding should do.”

The man nodded, and set the first disc to play.

As Atem had hoped, the camera _did_ show the gate into Yusei’s lot, though not as close as he could have wished. Still, it was something. Even with modern technology they would not be able to identify the perpetrator, if one did indeed show up, but showing anyone breaking into the lot would be enough.

Unfortunately, the first disk had nothing. Plenty of people went by the gate, but besides a couple of times when Yusei, he, and Yugi left and returned, there was nothing.

“How...perturbing.” Atem sighed. “Next?”

For much of the next disk, the footage was pretty much the same. Random passerbys, cars, employees shutting up the bar... _there_.

“Stop!” Atem held out his hand as if to stop the video himself, but the bartender was quick to respond.

There, on the screen, was a figure doing something to the gate at Yusei’s garage.

“Perfect.” Atem couldn’t hold back the wide grin as he clamped his hand victoriously on Yugi’s shoulder.

They were on their way.

 

***

 

They exited the bar in considerably higher spirits than they entered it, a copy of the disk safely stowed in Yugi’s pocket. Not that they could turn it into the police themselves, of course. It would appear too suspicious by far. No, he had instructed the bartender to deliver it to the police in the morning, claiming he had read about the suspicions in the paper, and decided to do his “civic duty” to see if he could find any incriminating evidence on one of the cameras. Without mention of Atem or Yugi instigating this, of course.

“What now, Atem?”

“You are going to go back to Yusei’s and hide that well. Tomorrow, we are going to discuss our findings with Yusei, and take a look at his security cameras. Now that we have video proof that someone else broke in from a source other than Yusei, we can use his cameras to collaborate the evidence and perhaps get a view of the perpetrator’s face.”

“And what are you going to do?”

Atem checked his watch. “Do you recall that errand I ran one evening a few days after we...arrived? Well, it seems everything is ready. I meet with them again tonight.”

That worried creased mared Yugi’s brow once more, something that made him look even more innocent than usual. Absurd, really, that Yusei would build someone so soft for a role so difficult, but it wasn’t as if Yugi was not up for it; quite to the contrary. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

Atem patted Yugi congenitally on the back. “I’ll be fine, partner. You just take care of that disk. I will back back before morning.”

 

***

 

Yusei padded into the kitchen the next morning, his eyes unfocused and bleary. It wasn’t until he caught the whiff of bacon and eggs that his expression gained some life to it. Atem was hovering over the stove, an apron Yugi had chosen that looked like a GameBoy on the front tied around his waist.

“What is this?”

Atem looked up and offered Yusei a small smile. “Well, I should hope you could recognize breakfast when you see it. If not, we need to have a discussion about your eating habits.”

For the moment setting aside the jab, Yusei sat down at the small breakfast table and watched his “roommate” at the stove for a moment. “I can tell you are cooking breakfast. I meant, _why_ are you cooking breakfast?”

“Maybe I just like cooking from time to time.”

Yusei gave him a bland look. “I know you don’t. I _created_ you, remember?”

This was only met by a shrug from Atem, who began to dish out the meal onto three plates. He called Yugi to breakfast before grabbing two of the full plates, setting one down in front of Yusei before taking a seat with his own.

“...thank you.” Yusei murmured, not making eye contact.

Atem nodded his acknowledgment. There was a brief pause, during which Atem tapped his fingers on the table top. Yusei narrowed his eyes at the action, then looked up at Atem with suspicion. “What the hell did you do?”

Atem raised a brow. “I don’t-”

“I heard the door open last night after I went to bed, so I know you went out. Also, you only tap your fingers like that as a nervous gesture; I should know, because, again, I created you so I remember giving you that as a nervous trait because I thought you should probably have one.” Yusei leaned forward, staring Atem in the eye in a way that spoke of Yusei’s lack of sleep and near mania from stress. “So tell me, _what did you do?_ ”

Atem cleared his throat and adjusted his plate needlessly. He wasn’t accustomed to being on the defensive end of an argument, despite being a defense attorney, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

“Yugi and I-well, I suppose mostly me, Yugi followed my suit-managed to accomplish a couple of things last night that should, in their achievement, ease some of your anxiety. However, you may feel some...frustration, over how we managed to reach these resolutions.”

There was a vein in his forehead pulsating. He could feel it. “Do tell,” he said as calmly as possible.

“Well, the first thing is that we have successfully uncovered evidence which casts a reasonable doubt on your guilt of Kalin’s murder, so it should at the very least get Officers Simian and Sludge off your tail for awhile.”

Yusei was too flustered by the news to bother to correct Atem on his show of pettiness. “Seriously? That’s fantastic! What kind of evidence?”

Atem grinned, pulling out a pair of photographic prints from his pocket and slid them over to the other man. One showed Yusei’s garage from a distance, and in front of the gate stood a crouched figure, seemingly messing with the lock. The other image showed a much cleaner view of the culprit, clearly taken from one of Yusei’s own security cameras, now curled up under Kalin’s bike.

“A figurative smoking gun, if you will.” Atem said through a grin. A surprisingly kind one, too, considering it was much more like him to smirk in a self satisfied manner than offer any kind of warmth to anyone other than Yugi.

Yusei’s own grin felt rather bright itself. Hell, his whole body felt warm and light, as the tension of the last day quickly evaporated.

“Where did you get this image?”

“At the bar on the corner. It seemed a likely site to have a decent security camera that pointed towards the garage.”

“So that’s it, then, isn’t it?” Yusei sat back with a smile, holding the two images up to his face. “I’m in the clear, now, right? I mean, this proves it wasn’t me.”

“Most probably. At the very least it proves that a man other than you bothered to break into your garage and meddle with the bike. Do you recognize the man?”

Yusei squinted at the image for a moment, then shook his head. “No, I don’t think I have met him before.” He glanced at Atem. “Do you recognize him? I mean, have you seen him from when you were in my head?”

“I thought about that myself, but neither I nor Yugi have any recollection of the man. Whatever the case, I think we can safely say you are in the clear, unless they try to claim that you paid someone to sabotage the bike, but that seems incredibly unlikely. It was already a rather convoluted and unimaginably stupid ploy from the start, so to suggest that you _paid_ someone to frame you in such an obvious way would be difficult to present to the DA. No, I think we’re close to having this whole ordeal behind us.”

Yusei sat back in his chair and let out a long breath. “That...that’s a hell of a weight off my shoulders.”

“There’s...one other little detail.”

Yusei raised an unimpressed brow. “What did you do?”

“Well,” Atem drawled, scratching lightly at something on the tabletop. “Do you recall our conversation about identification?”

Yusei stared at him silently for a beat. “I’m really not going to like this, am I?”

“Most likely not.”

“God damnit, Atem,” Yusei groaned. “Did you seriously get me out of one legal drama and throw me into another?”

“Not at all. In fact, you are not connected to this in any way, personally or monetarily.”

Yusei crossed his arms. “Then tell me what this means for you and Yugi, and don’t tell me any details. I don’t want to know.”

“Yugi and I should have IDs and perfectly believable personal information in all relevant government agencies by the end of the week.”

Good old Blister. Gruff, but not a bad sort.

“How the hell are you paying for that?”

Atem gave him a look. “I thought you didn’t want to know?”

“I _don’t_ , but so far you have always used _my_ money since you and Yugi popped up.”

“Let’s just say it isn’t your money and leave it at that, shall we?” Atem asked, though it was clearly a rhetorical question. Yusei decided to leave it there even if he wanted to argue for the principle of the thing.

“Fine, but don’t get arrested. I’ve had enough of legal drama to last me a lifetime, and I write for the damn genre.”

Atem smiled thinly at Yusei, reaching into his pocket and feeling for something that was no longer there.

It was worth it.

***

 

Atem’s theory came to pass by early the next day. A few hours after their revealing breakfast, Officers Simmington and Trudge showed up, looking rather perturbed. The bartender had indeed turned in the tape to them, and now they had come to see if Yusei had any camera footage they could take and to fingerprint the area, as well as the three of them for eliminations. By that evening, they identified the perpetrator as Scotch, a low level member of a gang Kalin had double crossed (holding back what he owed them and sleeping with Scotch’s girlfriend, as it turned out). The next afternoon they had captured him, hanging out in his apartment high as a kite and stupidly insisting, “His ex fucked up his bike. I wasn’t even there!” Since the suspected sabotage had not been released to the press, his knowledge of it had been enough to arrest him on. So there it was, done and dusted and thankfully resolved quickly enough.

The evening after the case had fully come to a close, the three of them sat on the roof sipping whiskey and watching the street below.

“You guys were right. It’s super peaceful up here.”

Atem and Yusei nodded their heads, making sounds of agreement.

“Yes, this could make for quite a nice habit, I think. A pleasant way to end the evening.” Atem returned, taking a delicate sip.

“So...does that mean you intend to stay for awhile?”

There was an odd note to Yusei’s voice, something even Yugi picked up on, making him turn to look at their creator. Yusei did not return the look, continuing instead to watch the road with seemingly deep interest. The only other give away to his emotions was the nervous way his finger traced the rim of his glass.

“I believe we established that Yugi and I plan to remain in this world.”

“I know, I just meant...are you planning to live here?”

Atem and Yugi exchanged glances before turning back to the other man.

“Would we be welcome, though? I understand if we’re an inconvenience.” Yugi replied for them with his usual innocence.

“Absolutely.”

Atem alone appeared taken aback, while Yugi almost looked smug. Yusei grinned at them both and offered them a shrug. “I know you don’t actually need me now, not when you’ll have all the identification and everything to strike out on your own soon. But the company has been nice. And really, I kind of owe you one, finding that camera footage.”

“Oh, the police would have gotten there eventually,” Atem replied in a bored tone that suggested he thought quite the opposite. He had privately told Yugi his concern that they were the type to take the easy target without doing a thorough investigation. “We just cleared it up quicker and saved you from more stress.”

“You also saved me from being forced to tell them that I’m a writer. The papers would have caught wind of that, and I really don’t want people knowing I am Taro Daimon just yet. So the least I can do is let you guys stay with me, at least for awhile. I can even come up with a third bedroom. There’s a disused office space in the garage. It would be downstairs, but we could turn it into another spare bedroom. If you guys want."

“Oh, that would be awesome, Yusei! We’d love that, wouldn’t we, Atem?”

Atem looked between Yugi and Yusei, the glint of something unreadable yet warm in his sharp eyes. “Yes, I believe we would.”

  



End file.
